Page 97 of Claim

“Come for me, pretty girl. Come all over my dick like a good girl.”

Her cries erupt through the car, and I roar out her name until my lungs burn, filling her to the brim with my come.

I pull her flushed face back to look at her and I smile. Fuck, she’s perfect.

“Punishment is officially over. I can fuck you whenever now.” I pull her bottom lip back with my thumb.

“Good. You have a lot of making up to do.” She grins.

“That isn’t how this works.” I pin her with a stare.

“Miki, we aren’t meant to follow anyone’s rules. We make our own. We are exploring, right? What makes us both happiest?”

I rest my forehead against hers.

“You. Iskorka. Anything you do makes me happy.”

And I mean it. Whether she’s being bratty and sassy, pushing every damn button of mine she can find, or when she submits and lets me ruin her.

Anything she does is everything I need in life.

CHAPTER 42

ANASTASIA

Song- Me and the Devil, Soap&Skin

“Wow.”My mouth falls open as we enter the grand hallway. It’s like something you’d read about in a fairytale.

Huge chandeliers, with servers in bow ties holding champagne on a tray. Fresh red roses perfectly arranged in vases, and even a string quartet. Of course.

“Enzo knows how to throw a very elaborate event.”

Miki tugs at his bow tie, clearly uncomfortable.

“You look sexy.” I elbow him in the side and he looks down, arching his brow with a smirk.

“Don’t tempt me, I’ll lock us in the nearest room and have my wicked way with you.”

Goosebumps erupt over my arms. I want that.

“I bet there is a huge library in here, there has to be.”

This place has that old world sense about it. I bet it has one of them rolling ladders and some dusty books.

“We can go hunt it down if you want?” He nods towards the staircase.

“We can at least show our face in there first.”

Miki told me he has lots of friends coming to Vegas for this. I want to see this part of his life and he made it clear he wants to show me off as his wife.

He swipes us up two flutes of champagne and leads us to the ballroom.

I recognize his family huddled in a corner laughing with each other. Alexei’s cackle carries over the crowd. I half expect him to be swinging from a chandelier by the end of the night.

Instead of heading to them, Mikhail beelines for another group of men. As soon as we approach them they stop talking.

Jesus. They’re scary.

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